𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍.
skinfcxi:
[ ... ] Dagr blinks once, twice, thrice. She is almost impressed that he had managed to hold off against Vestri for so long, but the larger part of her is enraged.
“Hey! What in the nine worlds do you think you’re doing?” Dagr shouts, storming right in between the combatants. “What’s wrong with you, man? Do you usually go around and beat the hell out of people’s pets? Are you some crazy animal hater or something?”
Jötunar jabs a finger at her fellow knight.
“I’ve been looking for my damn bird for the last hour and a half! We have places to be, y’know. I hope you didn’t bang him up too bad — he’s got a beauty pageant to get to.”
Vestri caws in agreement, taking his usual place upon Dagr’s shoulders.
“I have half a mind to sic Vestri on you again! What do you have to say for yourself?”
fixed on the adversary before him, ephraim doesn’t at first catch the sounds of approach from behind — only picking up on the crunch of heavy boots through underbrush at the same instant a startlingly human light of recognition dawns in the giant bird’s eyes, fixed on some point past him. it’d be an opening! if not for the voice that rings out — no, booms out — practically shaking the leaves from their branches. and rather than someone concerned for his facing the eagle alone ( he has something about how he was handling it fine readied on the tongue; call it a learned defense ), the woman storms between them and fixes him with a glare.
the storm of words that comes out of her next is nothing short of baffling.
pets? animal hater? what kind of accusations— a beauty pageant?
his expression must be utterly dumbfounded if he looks as blank as he feels. but the proof is there in the way the bird settles, completely docile, on the giant woman’s shoulder, and he has to face what his eyes are telling him. ❝ er— i... that bird is yours? ❞ as ridiculous as it sounds.
but he’s seen half-man-half-stallions, the walking dead, three-headed dogs and petrifying snake-women; fairytales most, including himself, would have dismissed as ravings. so maybe it’s not as ridiculous as it seems. ❝ i was defending myself, ❞ he finally explains, straightening up, ❝ it attacked first. ❞ or at least he’s pretty certain it had. reginleif tips spearpoint towards the ground, though he still keeps an eye on the creature just in case the threat to “sic” it on him again hadn’t been an empty one. ❝ i thought it might endanger the town, so i wanted to prevent it from getting close. i didn’t realize it was tame; i apologize. ❞
now that the apparent danger has passed, though, he can admire the beast for what it is, with that jagged beak and talons no longer directed at him, he hopes. its trainer, too, is familiar; one of his fellows among the knights, though he recalls neither name nor station; he would remember if they’d spoken before. but a bird like that looks more fit for hunting, or even war, not... he clears his throat, ignoring a growing knot of uncertainty as to whether he truly wants to know. ❝ and, what is this about a... ‘ beauty pageant ’? ❞














